by Jackie Braun
“I know.” Both of their jobs were on the line. “I have a plan. Clear your schedule for a few hours starting around one o’clock.”
“Why?”
His voice held trepidation. She had the feeling it would hold an emotion far more unpleasant when he heard what she was about to say.
“A local mother’s group is holding its annual picnic in Grant Park. I thought we could stop in for an hour or so. You could ooh and ahh over the little ones and maybe help judge the cutest baby contest at three.”
After she said it, Julia held her breath. The silence was telling, but she gave Alec points for not swearing.
“Are you still there?” she asked after a moment.
“I’m here.”
“Well?”
A mild oath slipped out half under his breath this time. “Is this is absolutely necessary?”
“Honestly? I don’t see another way to convince the public that you’re not some kind of monster without, well, making sure you are seen out and about with children.”
“I get that, but can’t I just make an appearance and call it good without judging babies?”
“It won’t be so bad.”
“I don’t know the first thing about babies. They make me nervous. As it is, I’m not that good around older children.”
“Oh, I don’t know. You did fine with mine at the ball diamond last Friday.”
Sure, Alec had been a little awkward, especially at first. Danielle didn’t like him, but that wasn’t because of anything he’d done. Her kids hadn’t found him frightening or creepy. If they had, they would have said so. They were unflaggingly honest in that way. All kids were.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“What if I wind up pelted with pacifiers or booed out of the park?”
His attempt at humor came as a welcome surprise. Julia chuckled at the visual. “I don’t think it will come to that. I know one of the organizers.”
“Calling in another favor?”
“Let’s just say I promised her that Best For Baby would offer a savings bond to the contest winner, and it doesn’t hurt that we’ll be passing out coupons for a free package of diapers.”
“My reputation is being salvaged by something worn on a baby’s butt. Great,” he muttered. “So, you’ll be there, too?”
Foolishly, her heart kicked out an extra beat. Her tone purposefully glib, she asked, “Afraid to go into the lion’s den alone?”
“Hell yes. Besides, if I have to suffer through an afternoon of glad-handing and gratuitous fawning, I think you should, too.”
“I don’t think it will be as painful as all that,” she told him. “But I promise to stick by you the entire time.”
“Something to look forward to.” His reply had her smiling. “Where do you want to meet?”
“How about the lobby of your apartment building in, say, half an hour?”
“My apartment building?”
“You’ll need to change your clothes for this.”
“And you need to approve my attire.”
She neither confirmed nor denied his response. “Half an hour,” she said again. “’Bye.”
* * *
When Alec arrived, Julia was already in the lobby, leaning against the front desk and chatting with the security guard. It didn’t surprise him that she’d beat him there, even though his office was closer. He’d been waylaid by a couple of phone calls, including one from her reporter friend. What did surprise him was her easy manner with Hank Maloney, the grizzled-looking, retired cop who stood sentinel in the apartment building’s lobby Monday through Friday. Alec had lived in the building for nearly four years and he’d never heard Hank’s voice, except for an occasional grunt that served as a greeting.
The older man’s leathery face was split with a grin now. He had his wallet out and was showing Julia pictures of his grandkids.
“They’re just precious, Hank.”
“Smart as whips, too,” he replied. “I’ve been puttin’ aside some of the pension money I get from the city so that they’ll be able to get into a good college someday without having to take out loans. My boy, he teaches at a parochial school. His wife, too. They started a college fund right after the kids were born, but the way tuition is rising, it ain’t going to be enough.”
“Tell me about it,” she said grimly. She spotted Alec then and straightened. Her expression turned businesslike. “Hello, Alec.”
She was dressed in navy capri pants and a floral print top that was belted at the waist with a length of satin ribbon. The blouse’s butterfly sleeves fluttered as she waved goodbye to the guard and crossed the lobby to Alec. The outfit, which she’d paired with low sandals, was perfect for an afternoon of strolling about the park. He’d bet she’d changed. He couldn’t see her wearing that to her office.
Girl next door, he thought. She had that appeal. Especially when she offered a guileless smile as she stepped with him into the old-fashioned elevator. He pulled the gate closed, punched his floor and was grateful that the short elevator ride made conversation unnecessary. The way he was feeling, he was bound to say something foolish.
His apartment occupied the top floor of a turn-of-the century building that had been updated to include all of the modern amenities, such as a jetted tub, walk-in closets and a gourmet kitchen. Whoever had renovated the place had been smart enough to retain its period charm, keeping intact coffered ceilings, coved moldings and the parquet wood floors that ran throughout.
The apartment had three bedrooms and two full baths. In addition to garage parking—a luxury in Chicago, especially at lower price points—his unit came with exclusive access to a rooftop deck that afforded spectacular views of Lake Michigan. When he was home in the evenings and when Chicago’s weather cooperated—neither of which happened often enough—he sat up there with a drink, lulled by the fading light that reflected off the big lake’s waves. Maybe tonight, he thought. It had been a long time since he’d allowed himself to truly unwind.
After unlocking the door, he stepped back to let Julia inside. Given the lemony aroma of furniture polish, he concluded that his cleaning lady had already paid her weekly visit. He dropped his keys on the dust-free console table in the entryway and turned to face Julia. She was frowning.
“What?” he asked, noting the line that had formed between her eyebrows.
“This isn’t what I expected.”
“It’s a little Spartan,” he agreed.
Alec had never gotten around to hiring a decorator to fill it up with the kind of bric-a-brac and whatnots that made a place appear lived-in.
“Have you lived here long?”
“A few years,” he admitted. When he’d signed the initial lease, Alec hadn’t planned to stay in the apartment longer than a year. But time had marched well beyond that deadline. “My accountant keeps after me to purchase a house or condominium.”
“Good advice.”
“It makes sense from an investment point of view,” he agreed.
“But?”
He shrugged. “I’ve looked. A lot. It’s gotten so that I feel guilty for taking up so much of my real estate agent’s time.”
“What is it that you’re after?”
It was a straightforward question, similar to the ones his agent had posed repeatedly. Was Alec after more natural light? Better storage? A high-rise view of the city? Closer proximity to his office? A house with a yard and mature trees in one of the higher-end, established neighborhoods that dotted the lakeshore?
His answers had been vague, in part because the truth was harder to share. He wanted a house or even a condo that seemed like a home. Unfortunately, he wasn’t sure what a home was supposed to feel like. He’d never really had one, shuttled as he’d been during his boyhood between boarding schools and vacation spots on those rare occasions when he was invited to join his parents. His grandparents’ beach house on Nantucket was as close as he’d come to ever feeling as if he belonged somewhere. Alec still owned the place, though he
didn’t get there often now that he lived in Chicago. So, he’d stayed in the apartment, throwing money out the window in the form of rent, or so his accountant complained.
“What am I looking for?” he repeated Julia’s question now. “I’m not sure, I just know that I haven’t found it yet.”
“I’d like a house someday,” she said then. “Something north of the city so the kids could play outside without having to make a special trip to a park.”
“And with a white picket fence around a yard big enough for a golden retriever to run?”
Alec meant the question to be teasing, but the joke seemed to be on him. The Norman Rockwell-esque picture his words painted was damned appealing...and every bit as foreign as the sporty import he drove.
“Maybe.” Her smile was lopsided. “Not sure about the dog, even though Colin and Danielle have been begging for one since last Christmas.”
“Kids like dogs.”
Her brows shot up. “Oh?”
Alec shrugged. “That’s what I hear anyway.”
“Did you have a dog when you were a growing up?”
“No. They weren’t allowed.” If he let them, the bitter memories circling around him would swoop in and swallow him up whole.
She nodded slowly. “Boarding school. Right.”
He didn’t care for the sympathy he saw in her expression. “Actually, I wanted an iguana for a pet when I was about Colin’s age.”
Her grimace made him smile. She said, “Do me a favor, and don’t mention that if you see him again.”
“I’ll keep it to myself.”
“You could have an iguana now.”
Alec shrugged. “The appeal wore off a long time ago.”
It sounded like she said, “Thank God.”
“Besides,” he added, “pets can be a lot of trouble.”
“Yes. Almost as much as kids,” she said wryly.
Alec clapped his hands together and decided it was time to get down to business. “So, what does one wear to judge a baby beauty contest?”
“Can I see your closet?”
Her tone was brisk and businesslike, but the way her gaze slid away made him wonder if she found the prospect of entering his bedroom as intimate, not to mention arousing, as he did.
He decided she did when Julia said in a strained voice, “You know what? Why don’t you just go change into something you think is appropriate and we’ll take it from there?”
“Are you sure?” He was tempting them both.
She licked her lips and he had to bite back a groan. “I’m sure.”
Julia forced him to change his clothes not once but twice before she was satisfied that he’d struck the perfect balance between trustworthy corporate executive and approachable future father material.
When he returned from the bedroom the second time, she was standing at the living room window, admiring the view of the lake. The afternoon sun teased highlights out of her butterscotch hair. For one insane moment he was tempted to brush it aside and drop a kiss on the back of her neck.
He forced his gaze to the lake and remarked, “The water looks as smooth as glass.”
She turned. “According to the forecast, the evening hours will bring a storm.”
“And here I’d been thinking about spending an hour or two on the rooftop deck tonight.”
“That sounds relaxing. Do you manage it often?” She sounded skeptical and no wonder.
He shook his head. “Something usually comes up.”
“I know the feeling. I don’t often manage much alone time.”
Alec wasn’t thinking about being alone now. His gaze drifted briefly to her neck again, before he cleared his throat. “So, will this do?”
He spread his hands wide. He should have felt foolish. No one had dictated his attire since he’d graduated from prep school. Not that he’d strayed very much from the conservative wardrobe he’d worn back then. Instead, he felt...aware, hyperaware of the attractive woman who now studied him with a critical eye. It was a new experience for him all the way around. Most of the women Alec knew were more interested in undressing him than seeing that he was properly clothed.
“Better,” she murmured, one finger tapping her lips. “The khakis are the right touch. The jeans were too informal,” she said of the previous outfit. “Gabardine would be too much.”
He tugged his gaze from her lush lower lip and asked, “What do you think of the shirt?”
It was maroon chambray. She’d already vetoed a short-sleeved brown polo.
She made a humming noise. “Unbutton the cuffs and turn up the sleeves.”
He did as instructed and then raised his eyebrows in question. All the while that awareness sizzled.
“Hmm.” Even as the sound vibrated in her throat, she was closing what remained of the gap between them. Now she stood close enough that Alec could smell the subtle scent of her perfume. It wasn’t flowery or sweet. It held the tang of citrus. It enveloped him, washed over him like a wave.
“Well?”
He could barely hear the word over the blood that had begun to pound in his ears. What was wrong with him? Since when did he find intensity so sexy, or a simple touch so unsettling when she reached out and rolled up his shirtsleeves a second time?
She nodded afterward. “Yes. To the middle of the forearm makes you look more relaxed and approachable.”
“Approachable,” Alec repeated. He wanted to be amused. Instead, he was intrigued...and unbearably turned on.
Her hands were still on his arm, warm palms resting lightly against his bare skin. Another sizzle of awareness streaked through him, carrying the zing of an electrical current. Julia must have felt it, too, because she yanked her hands away and glanced up, her mouth rounded in surprise.
Seduction was an art, one at which Alec excelled, but he didn’t plan to kiss Julia. It just happened. No other parts of their bodies connected, only their lips. That tentative brush was all the more erotic for its brevity and sweetness.
He stopped, ordered himself to take a step back, but as his mouth hovered over hers, interest turned into need, until it seemed he had no other choice but to kiss her a second time. Nothing about this meeting was brief or could be classified as sweet. Hungry would be an apt description. Desperate would fit, too. Still, he didn’t touch her. He kept his arms at his sides, his hands clenched into fists. It was the only control he could muster, and even it was flagging by the time Julia broke away.
She brought her hand to her lips, her expression a mixture of surprise and, to his disappointment, horror.
“That probably wasn’t a good idea,” Alec said once his heart rate had leveled off.
Julia fussed with her shirt’s ribbon belt. Alec wanted to fuss with it as well...unknot it so he could slip the blouse over her head. He was sucking in a breath even as she exhaled.
“No. Not a good idea. Let’s not let that happen again.”
Her reply made it clear she wasn’t foisting all of the responsibility for that kiss on him, even if he had been the one to initiate it. She was taking responsibility, too. He wanted to agree with her about no repeats. Doing so would put both of their minds at ease.
Instead, he asked, “Why not? I mean, I know it’s not a good idea, but you’ve got to admit, that was one hell of a kiss.”
In fact, he wasn’t entirely certain he’d ever experienced its like. The blush that stained her cheeks made her agreement plain. When she spoke, her prim tone, even more so than her words, told him she didn’t plan to come back for seconds.
“I have a job to do, Alec. I’ve been hired to resurrect your public image. Your board of directors is not paying me to...fool around with you in private.”
He grunted out an oath. He couldn’t put his finger on the source of his irritation. But like a dog with a bone, he chewed on it. “Is that your idea of fooling around? If so, you need to get out more. It entails a whole lot more than kissing.”
The lips that just a moment earlier had been so soft and p
liant beneath his, flattened into a thin line.
“I don’t need to get out more. What I need to do is my job. Speaking of which, we need to leave now or we’ll be late. I promised the organizer of the cutest baby contest that we would be at the park no later than two.”
“Julia—”
She shook her head and turned on her heel. She was out of his apartment and nearly to the elevator before he had a chance to grab his keys and sunglasses and lock up. The ride down was quiet. She stood on the opposite side of the small elevator, arms crossed over her chest. No eye contact was made. It grated that she had a friendly smile and wave for Hank as she hustled across the lobby.
“You know where we’re going, right?” she said once they were outside. While his car was in the private lot designated for tenants, hers was parallel-parked up the block.
“I know where Grant Park is, and I’d imagine it won’t be that hard to find the event. All I have to do is listen for the sound of crying babies,” he drawled, more to irritate her than anything else.
“That’s right. Crying babies.” Her lips pursed and she snagged the mirrored sunglasses from his hand before he could slip them on. “You’ll need to leave these off when you get there. Approachable, remember? No one wants to be looking at their reflection when they’re talking to you. Eye contact is important. It tells people that you care about them. It says you’re interested in what they have to say and have nothing to hide.”
“Windows to the soul?” he taunted.
“For those who have one.”
Alec wasn’t sure whether to curse or laugh when, after giving him that lecture, she slipped on her own sunglasses.
FIVE
The man was infuriating. He was smug. Brash. Arrogant. Insufferable. And he was way too skilled with his mouth. The kiss he’d given her as they’d stood in his living room had all but caused her toes to curl.
For that reason, Julia kept the sunglasses snug on the bridge of her nose for the better part of the afternoon. Even when the sky began to darken with the first fat clouds of the evening’s approaching storm, she remained hidden behind the tinted lenses. Hidden was a good word for it. She felt too exposed to face Alec otherwise.